


Saying it Nicer

by preux



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Beer, Big Block of Cheese Day, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Maps, Pool & Billiards, goldfish crackers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preux/pseuds/preux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>C.J. and Toby get drunk and sleep over.  Goldfish are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saying it Nicer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/gifts).



> The only goldfish harmed are crackers.

CJ watched as Toby sank the last billiard ball. He made a brief, stifled squawk of triumph before he realized that he had reacted. He stopped and gave her the stunned, still look he usually wore when not reacting to something.

“So you won,” she said, eyes dancing, lips serious. “And you’re happy about that, I see. Only what?”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably to the other foot, pool cue tilting slightly in his grip. “I would have said it nicer,” he mumbled, eyes trained on the green felt.

CJ struggled inwardly for a moment. Two, equally attractive, opportunities for teasing presented themselves. Generally, she only had one. Demanding that Toby crow unpleasantly and strut meant she was one of the guys, that she had won the work battle and gained full professional status. But CJ was not certain either of them wanted that just now, tonight. Demanding that he act nicer was a way of insisting that they recognize the snuggling, the affection, the occasional lovemaking. Of course, it would never work. They were too different. Maybe it was better to keep things ambiguous. “Why?” He looked up. The fake humble look. “Why would you have said it nicer?” He kept looking, shifted his weight again. “Toby?”

He looked down, toyed with the cue ball. “Because I would have said it nicer.” He spun the ball. She watched his wedding ring glint in the light. “I meant it, but I would have said it nicer.”

CJ knew she had the upper hand, but she had to be careful. Toby was more sensitive than he seemed. “If you beat Sam…” Toby made a scornful noise. “OK. If you beat Josh, would there have been more of this crowing?”

Toby looked up sharply. “Crowing? What am I? Some sort of…”

“Crow. I believe the word you are looking for is crow.” CJ carefully chalked the end of her cue, even thought she did not intend to use it again. “A crow. Crowing in triumph.”

“A crowing crow?” Bad composition always upset him. Toby leaned his cue against the table to gesticulate better. “I believe the words you’re groping for are ‘smack talk.’ A crowing crow?”

“Would there have been more smack talk? If it had been Josh?” Toby moved closer, took the chalk and set it down, then the cue. He kept his gaze on the objects as he handled them.

“I would have said it nicer, CJ, because I would have remembered that it was you and not Josh or Sam.” He nudged her elbow and she followed automatically.

She decided not to let it go. To keep up the teasing. Or maybe she should refer to it as romantic ‘smack talk.’ “So you forgot that I was not Josh or Sam? And you crowed?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘celebrated.’”

CJ bent to pick up her scarf and jacket. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He smiled. “I didn’t.”

She smiled back. “Why?”

He let his eyes twinkle and then looked down as he picked up his own jacket and scarf. “I would have said it nicer, but I forgot…”

CJ didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. “You forgot? Toby, you can’t tell a girl that you forgot and expect to…”

He lifted his hands in exasperation. “Not that, CJ. But I forgot that it wasn’t just a casual thing, that we have this other thing. That we were playing, not competing. And I would have said it nicer.”

“This other thing?” CJ moved toward the door. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

They threaded their way to the door. “It’s better than crowing. Nicer. It’s a nicer thing to say. Than, for instance, that you are a bird that eats carrion and other disgusting things.”

“You hate the word nice.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean anything any more. But I still would have said it nicer.”

They wandered off together, talking about Big Block of Cheese Day. CJ explained about the Mercatur map, again, and Toby yelled and said he knew, a;though at much more length and in a speech lasting three minutes and giving seven different dates and the names of several dead cartographers. Then he stopped and said he would have said it nicer. And they laughed.

“How drunk are you, anyway?”

“Not as drunk as I plan to be.”

They were at CJ’s door and he went in for coffee. At least they said it was for coffee, and no one was really expecting them the next day, which was Saturday. CJ had a few bottles.

*****

They woke up, sprawled over each other, naked and reeking of beer and red wine and smoke and cheddar cheese goldfish crackers. CJ would strip the bed before they left the house. Otherwise, she would have slept in the crumbs for the next week because her cleaning woman was on vacation. Neither one of them said anything until they each showered (separately) and had wrapped up in a fluffy pink bathrobe (Toby) or a silky kimono (CJ). Then they chatted about politics, drinking coffee while reading the paper together.

“That was very nice,” said Toby, carefully keeping his eyes fixed on the coffee he was pouring into CJ’s mug. It hadn’t been, not exactly. They had split a bottle of wine and passed out before they did anything irrevocable involving bodily fluids.

“Very nice,” she agreed, wishing she could remember if anything irrevocable involving bodily fluids had occurred. Then she wished she knew where the word irrevocable had entered it. Toby was invading her brain.

“Even with the crumbs, which were not at all nice.”

“Toby…” CJ was still not caffeinated enough for this level of honesty.

“I have a fish shaped-indentation on my left buttock.”  CJ moved to lift the edge of the fluffy pink robe, but Toby pulled away. "Avert your eyes." 

CJ snickered into her coffee.“I’ll check that later, then.”

“You want breakfast?”

CJ looked at her boss and best friend. They loved each other in their way. It was a very comfortable sort of thing. But she thought, somehow, that she never forgot when she and Danny behaved irrevocably. And if she felt muzzy on the subject, she could ask him without feeling stupid, because in her heart she didn’t mind that much when the edges of herself blurred into Danny, but she knew that Toby and she would always each be distinct. They would always recognize each other as separate people, which made them excellent friends and colleagues. “I do.”

“But?” Goodness he knew her so well.

“This isn’t really a thing, is it?” She voiced as much as she could without bringing Andie or Danny into anything.

Toby looked her in the eye and she knew that he was really trying to find a way to say this nicer. He failed. “No.” She waited. “But it is nice.”

She nodded, happy that he was there. “It is.”


End file.
